Tender Moments of a Crying Heart
by Obsidian Angel
Summary: Harry's heart cries for the love he lost...


TITLE: Tender Moments of a Crying Heart

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing whatsoever. All credit to the wonderful talented J.K. Rowling.

WARNING: there is mention of character death and a m/m relationship. ss/hp. Non OOTP or HBP compliant…Therefore AU…

I've been living in a dream world ever since I turned eleven, ever since Hagrid came to fetch me from the Dursley's all those years ago. The fight for the Sorcorer's Stone up until Voldemort's rebirth; flesh and blood once again. Now, the worst of fantasies has come to pass, the death and guilt of those who have fallen, either by my stayed hand or direct involvement. Eaten away is my soul after every victim falls prey to this war. But now…My guide, my teacher, my friend, my lover is dead. And for what? A sacrifice for my life? A life rendered meaningless without him. My heart bleeds from the loss, the tender gnawing, and aching pain of his absence from my side that continues to rip through my resolve warping my reality.

It's not true, I tell myself. None of it has ever been true. I am not a wizard. I don't go and never have gone to Hogwarts, a School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It's all been a dream. It's not real. Quidditch, pixies, guppas, potions, magic. None of it was ever really real! I close my eyes hoping, just hoping perhaps my life has been but a dream and I would wake up in my cupboard under the stairs none of us the wiser…then I wouldn't feel like this…I wouldn't feel so…dead…

I loved him. Love him. Still, my heart yearns for its soul mate like a child not understanding the implications of death, what it means when the heart stops beating, stops giving…We found each other in the most unlikely of places, in the middle of hatred's wrath, both of us torn by status and duty. I never knew life could taste so sweet, that there was so much more to him, such beauty and intrigue than what met the eye. The world pinned him as a sinner, kissed by evil, touched by malice, an eater of death. He always said, "People with courage and character always seem sinister to the rest." He could smolder you with one look and set you aflame with another. Those eyes, so dark and piercing, a noir mirror hiding his soul from the rest of us in defense of such a pitiful creature. It incensed him to realize I saw him. I saw who he really was, what he was trying to hide, and he fought it. Not me, never could he allow someone like me see him. He fought so hard to save him yet never knew true freedom until he yielded. Only then did he allow me access to the man behind the mask, the stranger hidden in shadow.

I never knew what true passion was, never understood the connotations of love until I found him. The inherent, animalistic urge to be with him, share myself, submit myself to him left me needy and left me wanting more, more of what he could offer me. His touch seared my soul, marked me to the core. He loved me with such fervor with such a fiery ardor no other could quench my desires but him I was reborn from inside him and he, I.

I had thought escaping the wrath of my aunt and uncle was the best thing that could ever happen to me. I was wrong. I found something better in my new life: friends, acceptance, and a place to hang my heart. But with happiness, I now know, comes great sorrow. I found who I was, what I had to be and could be to those I loved, yet I failed, miserably.

The man I love is dead. I can't bring him back. He's dead and I don't think I can live without him. He gave me the strength and courage I mustered to journey on in my quest to defeat Lord Voldemort but at an, oh so I a price; a price much too high for me that I never would have paid in the first place had it been within my powers to prevent.

I was happy with him and I know for a fact that I made his life worth living when it seemed he would be swallowed by the nothing that was eating him up inside. It showed, while we made love, in his eyes. His love for me was there as solid as he was to touch. Palpable in the way he looked at me as he moved over me, claiming me.

We were one. The elements were always against us. We crossed uncrossable boundaries, broke laws that served us as protections. He was my teacher and I: his student. He was twenty years my senior. Age shouldn't really have mattered in wizarding cases but yet it had. We had to overcome these things finding our place within one another but it ended up, in the long run, to not be enough. We couldn't live our lives be together because of war, of hatred, of ignorance. No one tried to understand our relationship. It was wrong on so many levels yet was so right to feel loved, to be wanted, and touched. To have feathery kisses each morning, to just be...

But he is gone now. Gone and sacrificed himself so that I might have a chance to live, to move on and love someone more worthy of my love. No matter how much he cared for me or loved me, he always said I could do better than the "greasy git." I told him I probably could but that I didn't want to.

His funeral was only a couple days ago. A small affair draped in barren skies and bleak outlooks. How does one go about mourning a Death Eater? Most were satisfied to be rid of his carcass as if he were a stain on society. So he loved. Big deal. He loved me and that is all that should have mattered. He fought for us. He lived, breathed, and died for US! How do we repay him? By spitting on his grave, walking past his marker in disgust to move towards another more worthy of your attention!

Everyone praises me for a job well done in protecting our precious world when it was truly him who allowed me to finish the farce of a war once and for all. His life for one moment of hesitancy on the Dark Lord's part. One small little hitch in thought and it was over. It was that easy. To watch my lover fall to the ground enveloped in a green glow that was meant for me cost the snake his war. All my power, all my love and hatred barred none was blasted through the air to its target. I never saw him hit the ground. I was already knelt beside my fallen angel when the Tom Riddle's body finally relinquished its hold on immortality and crumbled to the wet land beneath us. I don't think I ever cried so much in my life.

It was never supposed to be like this. We are supposed to be together. I had always hoped of having a family. We were going to be a family. It's what we wanted, what we needed. I have to find a way to live. A way to move on and with out him. He will be soon haunting me if I don't get off my arse and do something, instead of moping around. But it's so incredibly hard. Each breath I take is another he never will. I stand here thinking how he will never again taste the healing rain of a spring downpour in April or smell the musty scent of his books as he turns the page and I just want to know why…

I walk into the dungeons hoping that when I push open the door to the potions classroom, he'll be standing there in his black robes leaning over a cauldron testing it's consistency. But no, he won't be. Not anymore. He never will be again. I loved him. I miss him. I will always miss him. I miss my teacher, I miss my lover, I miss my friend. I miss you, Severus...

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QUOTE BY HERMAN HESSE


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